Page 5 of Always a Chance
Yet, only one girl I’d thought about since. The only person who’d known me as well as Aidan.
Talia Hillson. She was the girl next door, the one always ready to forge notes to get out of class or sneak into the rec center at night to swim. Aidan thought we were crazy, and maybe we were.
“I…” My mouth snapped shut because I didn’t know what I wanted to say. Aidan was the one person in Gulf City who knew what truly happened ten years ago. He knew what broke me.
What that single night on the beach took from me.
“I can’t believe it’s been ten years.” His shoulders dropped, and I knew it was because he took on my grief. That was Aidan, always feeling what those around him felt. “I don’t have to go to my sister’s place…”
“No.” I cleared my throat. “It’s just a silly class reunion. It’s not for a couple months.” And it wasn’t like she was still here. “I’m fine. You should go.”
He gave me a long look before getting to his feet. “Don’t try to write tonight. It’ll just come out as bad as your other chapters.”
One corner of my lips tilted up, and I saluted him. “Thanks for the reminder of how terrible I am, old chap. Now, begone.”
He hesitated but in the end must have decided I wanted to be alone. He wasn’t wrong. As soon as he grabbed the food and shut the door behind him, I looked at the invitation again. Hair flopped into my eyes, but I didn’t bother brushing it away.
Ten years. Closing my eyes, I pictured the beach littered with newly graduated teenagers who didn’t know what tragedy awaited them that night.
3
TALIA
How did time pass and still feel like nothing had changed?
I stood on the freshly mown grass, looking up at the same pale blue walls that once felt like such a haven. Now, I couldn’t make myself step closer, cross the gap between my present and my past.
The bright Florida sun glinted off terracotta roof tiles, sending all light back into the sky. Or maybe that was just how I saw this place. Gulf City was a black hole of emotions, of memories. If I wasn’t careful, I wouldn’t make it out of here intact.
The front porch jutted out on each side of the door, a familiar swinging bench rocking in the breeze.
The weather was perfect, especially for April, not a cloud in sight. I was home. It should have made me happy. Instead, dread curled in my stomach.
Ten years ago, my family broke, shattered out among the waves. We’d never truly been whole, not since Mom left us when I was ten, but there’d been moments it felt like everything was okay, like we were all each other needed.
And then, it was gone. Because of me.
Sweat prickled the back of my neck, and I reached behind me to secure my curls away from my skin with a band from my wrist. In New York, I was Talia Hillson, with fashionable clothes, perfect hair, and a stubborn dedication to the truth. That was a journalist’s job, after all.
Here, in this town, I was none of those things. Just Tali, the girl who asked for too much, thought only of herself, and made her family, her sister, pay the price.
With one final glance at the house, its beautiful gardens a testament to my dad’s ardent belief in hiring someone to handle the tasks my mom loved—as if in spite—I turned away. It was too soon. I wasn’t ready.
Hiking my duffel bag up onto my shoulder, I turned toward the road. Barrett’s Lexus sat at the curb, a reminder of what I had to go back to when this was all over. He’d let me borrow it without question. We may not have been in love—something we both knew—but he was the best friend I’d had since… well, since I left this town.
At that thought, my eyes flicked to the house next door, and I remembered how much life it once hummed with. The Kellys had four kids, each one of them vibrant and full of energy, but there was only one who’d ever drawn me in so completely. The one who now couldn’t stand the sight of me.
Getting an interview with Johnny Kelly was going to be fun. I sighed and slid onto the leather seat. It wasn’t until I reached the quaint streets of downtown Gulf City that I realized where I was going.
Before she left, Mom’s favorite weekend activity was going to the bakery and letting us eat too much sugar. She always claimed the name of the place fit her. Momma Loves Sugar.Ain’t that the truth, she’d say.
Now, the bakery was run by the former owner’s daughter. Each time I came home over the last ten years, I spent too much time hiding out here. Remembering. Just remembering.
The place looked the same. Tiny white tables spread out, leading up to the glass cases of pastries. Behind the counter was a chalkboard with the day’s specials, mostly coffee drinks.
Mariana Morgan glanced up when I entered, and a smile appeared on her face. “I was wondering when you’d show up again.”
I tried to smile but wasn’t sure I succeeded. “You know I can’t stay away forever.”
